Hell Week
by Tif S
Summary: Canon Compliant AU: Maashous' tech week instincts take over as he notices the trouble between the Mazzuchellis and son Gordy. A series of meditations from outsider, Maashous Evers as he tries to reconcile his role in the Mazzuchellis' life. Non slash. Canon pairings. Family focused. Cross posted on Ao3, found under my penname MissTif. Taking requests for scenarios.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Hello, here with a venture into a new fandom, Rise. This fic is also cross posted on Ao3 under my penname MissTif. Anyway, Maashous is one of my favorite characters in Rise, I love all of the characters, but I really wanted to write something involving Maashous and this plot bunny was born. As usual, I don't own Rise it belongs to NBC and respective owners/creators. A quick note on the structure of this story, it's a bit different, not really a oneshot collection, but not entirely a traditionally chaptered story either, call it a hybrid with a common theme I guess. Most chapters will be from Maashous' point of view unless another point of view is requested. Due to the hybrid structure, I'm open to requests for scenarios under a common theme which will become clear soon enough. Due to this story being posted on Ao3 first, the first three (I'm working on the fourth) chapters are already completed and I will post them here as soon as I can._**

* * *

Blown Fuses

Maashous has been staying with the Mazzuchellis for a certain amount of time now. His presence is accepted fact by most as Mr. Mazzu and his wife refuse to let him leave He thinks that he has an understanding of this family. When Gordy showed concern or rather vocal outrage about the air mattress in his room, Maashous gladly took the couch. The least he can do is minimize his imposition. Mr. Mazzu's family has done more than enough for him.

He enjoys the conversations, being taken seriously by his pseudo guardians. He's never really had that before.

But Maashous is used to noticing small fits and starts whether within the productions he works or the people around him. He's noticed Gordy Mazzuchelli before. He's not the most high profile member of Stanton's football team, no Robbie Thorne. Not the leading man. If Maashous remembers correctly, he's been riding the bench this season, and it almost appears that the role is something he's used to. He's the understudy.

Despite this, Maashous sees no resignation in his peer, rather a series of lightning strikes, blown fuses. Anger rolling as thunder.

So when the spotlights blow out during rehearsal, Maashous finds it oddly representative.

He knows there's something beyond the tech troubles. There's always something beyond technical trouble in a show when you are dealing with theatre people. If the music and the steps don't sync in a choreographed number, there's usually someone too hesitant to perform the combination, if blocking needs to be reset, it usually indicates a mental block. If someone asks for too much spotlight in one particular area over another, well…

"How's it look?" Mr. Mazzuchelli asks him.

"It's fried Mr. Mazzu."

"Gah-! It's fine, we'll...we'll fix it right?"

"I...I can try but…" Maashous fears disappointing his mentor, but the circuit board _is_ completely shot.

"We'll try our best." Ends up basically the answer that the others can give. And his teacher seems resigned to this fact. Or he would, if it weren't for the way he rubbed his forehead leaning against the wall.

* * *

Maashous finds a certain kind of solace in working in the lighting booth, and not just because it was once a place where he made his bed. _Did this really happen?_ He can remember exactly where his sleeping bag had been. There's something comfortable about the simplicity of working lights in a field of interest with actors whom are less than simple. He can read the mood on a stage that is six feet away. He knows how to set the scene before a single line is spoken or musical note played: the right amount of light to offset an awakening or a violent storm, create an environment intense enough for grandiose speeches or soft enough to elicit intimate confessions.

So he notices Mr. Mazzuchelli's irritation before he even appears in the booth.

"Hey Maashous…" A soft sigh, an automatic smile and clap on the shoulder. The man is acting. "How's the designing coming?"

Maashous nods, bringing out the plans. "So this is what I came up with...looks pretty cool right?" As he watches Mr. Mazzu examine the plans, the teen bites his lip, letting teeth graze skin for a brief moment. "Is...everything alright Mr. Mazzu?"

"Yeah." Mr. Mazzuchelli takes a drag from his coffee cup, snapping his fingers once, twice, thrice as he places it down on the stool and walks over. "So, I like this, but I think if we took the brightness down like…". He takes the controls, and Maashous feels his grip slipping, so Maashous steps back simply listening sensing that his teacher needs this moment of being heard. But he wonders, is there a way that he can set the scene to help this family who has helped him?

* * *

 _ **A/N: So as you can see, the common theme of sorts is fix-it, I guess you could call it, mostly of the family variety. This is also where the title comes from, tech week in theatre also sometimes called Hell Week. At least it was in my school. Anyway, share your thoughts friends. And the other completed chapters are coming soon.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: I do not own Rise, that belongs to NBC and the creators/owners. I do not own Hamilton or the song Satisfied. That belongs to Lin Manuel Miranda. So this is chapter 2. It takes place a few days after the party at Robbie's slightly before and/or during the events of We've All Got Our Junk, like mid episode. If I had to give it an approximate timeline. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.**_

* * *

Dry Run and One Small Change

The first thing that every member of a technical team must do is watch the show play out: no interruptions, no huge resets. Maashous isn't entirely certain where the hiccups in the Mazzuchellis' production are: what's broken, what needs fixing, adjusting, new blocking. He can guess sure, but until he sees for himself, he can't truly know. And with he himself playing a supporting role, well this will be difficult to judge.

A few days after the disaster that was Robbie's victory party, and the Philadelphia trip Maashous steers clear of the Mazzuchelli patriarchs and Gordy, whom seem entirely in disciplinary mode, instead allowing himself to be useful by entertaining the youngest Mazzuchellis, Kaitlin and Sadie, as the latest obsession of obsessions plays on the iPhone, _Hamilton._

" _I remember those soldier boys trippin over themselves to win our praise…"_

The two girls dance and perform, and Maashous could honestly picture them one day being involved in Stanton's shows, the next Lilette or Gwen. Just before he is pulled in to take Alexander's part, the pausing of the music and the begging pretty much forcing the techie into the role of temporary performer, Maashous notices Gordy walking to his room, and the barely there glance...or is it a glare? Before he can decipher it, the nearby door slams.

"Gordy was busted." Sadie suddenly starts to explain. "Out all night at _Gwen's_." This sends the girl and her sister snickering before they resume their Schuyler sister masquerade

 _Huh_ … Maashous listens to the girls' rap only half- deciphering. That didn't seem like the whole story. He leaves the room.

"Where are you going?" Sadie asks.

"Sadie, who cares?" Maashous catches Kaitlin's eye sort of grateful. He knows she isn't being mean, just trying to give him his space.

"I'll be back in time for the repeat." Maashous gives a small smile. He doesn't know much about these girls, but he has a feeling it will continue to be on a loop.

Maashous heads in the direction of the kitchen, where he is certain the Mazzuchellis are. He sees Mr. Mazzu bracing against the island. Mrs. Mazzuchelli is sitting in the seat, her hands folded as if in prayer. She releases a breath, it is laced with emotion. Mr. Mazzu walks over and puts a hand on her shoulder. Maashous hesitates as he hears the conversation play out. He doesn't want to interrupt the moment. _No interruptions._

He then decides he will sneak in. He goes to the fridge grabbing two water bottles. Mr. Mazzu catches his eye raising his eyebrows. Maashous simply holds up one water bottle, and leaves without a word. He doesn't know if his presence is mentioned, if the subject is changed, because he is already reentering the hall. He places a water bottle on the floor outside Gordy's closed bedroom door, but doesn't knock. This has to be handled carefully.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Please let me know your thoughts. I'd love to know.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: So, this is the first sort of truly AU'ed chapter, and the first of a two parter. It is set during Bring Me Stanton, and is kind of the beginning of my true goal for this story/interconnected series. And for the first time, a character other than the Mazzuchelli family members and Maashous makes an appearance.**_

* * *

"Set" to Fail Part 1

Maashous notices a change after the disaster that was the Football Party. Gordy offered to take his sisters out for ice cream yesterday. They left, Sadie smiling brightly, and still talking about it even now, as today Maashous continues his work on the model set for Spring Awakening, spread out over the main table. He hasn't really talked to Gordy much at all even after moving in with the Mazzuchellis, unsurprising considering they run in such different circles. And there still seems to be an unspoken tension between them, a tension that has become abundantly clear, because Maashous can sense an act from miles away.

"Hey Maashous," Mrs. Mazzuchelli enters the room, looking at the model. "Seems like you've been busy. Working on a Sunday?"

Maashous nods. "Mr. Mazzu's excitement is contagious."

"It is isn't it?" She smiles, but it doesn't entirely reach her eyes. As someone who watches actors on a daily basis, Maashous can tell her words are double edged even though her tone is upbeat. "That's adorable. It looks like mini Stanton."

"That's the idea."

Mrs. Mazzuchelli looks at Maashous, glancing toward the model. "May I? I'll be careful, I promise."

Maashous backs away slightly. "Go ahead."

"You built this?" She reaches toward the model, spinning it gently to face her. "Maashous...this is…really good."

It is this moment of awe that Maashous feels deeply. And then again as Mr. Mazzu sees the finished product for the first time, hand clapping down on his shoulder. The attention makes him instinctively shrug, glance away fleetingly even as the smile of pride is still present. And then he notices Gordy in the hall: that unreadable half frown that reeks of indifference that _isn't_ and _hasn't_ been indifferent since Maashous Evers has moved into the Maazuchelli home, and then Mrs. Mazzuchelli's expression changes as she looks at her son, then to her husband; the mask falls. Maashous finds his own feeling of pride churning in his stomach, poisoning the mood like bad shrimp as it deflates, and he grabs the model and leaves the room, moving past silently and without acknowledgement.

* * *

The late rehearsals are taking their toll. Maashous watches the arguments play out.

"REHEARSAL'S OVER! You can go." Mr. Mazzuchelli snaps. Maashous flinches. Everyone files out, but Maashous just as exhausted, lingers near the door.

"Oh god!" And Mr. Mazzuchelli runs out past Maashous as though his shoes are on fire, so only Ms. Wolfe is still in the auditorium with him.

For some reason, Maashous can't bring himself to leave just yet. He goes where he's never dared go for longer than five minutes at a time, on the stage. His model is still on the cart. He can't help the fire that rises in his stomach as he remembers the words: _A 15 year old is going to tell me how to do my job?_ This set is causing nothing but trouble.

"Maashous, you alright Sweetie?" Ms. Wolfe speaks.

He can't speak, not yet. But then suddenly he does. "What do you think we should do about the set Ms. Wolfe?"

Ms. Wolfe sighs. "I don't know."

Maashous raises his eyebrows. He doesn't buy that response, not for a second. He knows that Ms. Wolfe is holding back.

"Maashous, be honest Baby, this is about more than the set isn't it?"

He falls back into silence, rocking onto his toes, and then sits on the edge of the stage, letting his legs drop over the side.

Ms. Wolfe, to her credit, doesn't say a word more on the subject. "It's alright." is all she says with a touch to his shoulder that is so light, Maashous isn't even sure he felt it at all.

Maashous simply nods rising to his feet and going back to the door. "Have a good night Ms. Wolfe."

"You too."

* * *

 _ **A/N: So this is the last pre-written chapter. I should have part 2 ready soon. Some teasers for part 2: We get more of Maashous' thoughts, a true conversation or moment of sorts involving Maashous and Gordy. Maashous and Lou and some connections that determine the final decision regarding the set that is made within Bring Me Stanton. And as Tuesday's episode seems to have a lot regarding Maashous, I will definitely incorporate that into another chapter. So lots of fun ahead.**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: So part 2 of the "Set" to Fail storyline in line with the episode Bring Me Stanton is finally here. As usual, I don't own Rise, that belongs to NBC and respective owners. Second disclaimer: I am totally theorizing as far as some of the rationale in this episode goes with regards to Maashous' choice of why he chose what he chose for the set. But I do think it corresponds with what we know about his character. Anyway, please enjoy friends!**_

* * *

"Set" to Fail Part 2

Maashous sees Gordy when he walks in. His head is in the fridge and he straightens out holding a drink in his hand. Gordy's eyes meet his for a brief moment. "It's a Coke." He holds up the can, and Maashous sees the label quite clearly.

Maashous shrugs as he goes to the fridge himself grabbing his own soda. "You don't have to prove it." He's perplexed by the assumption Gordy makes that he would tell on him. What could Maashous possibly gain from that even if it was a beer instead of a Coke?

These are the most words spoken between them without an outside force adding pressure. The fizz of the can opening is exacerbated by the silence that has now fallen.

Maashous keeps one hand on his backpack strap feeling the weight of his textbooks, of the homework yet uncompleted even as the time is begging him to search out a pillow as he takes a sip. The carbonation burns his throat.

"I don't?" Gordy's voice is so soft, Maashous is not sure he's even hearing properly, but underneath the usual edge, he hears something different.

Maashous shakes his head. It's the truth after all. Gordy doesn't have to prove it to him.

"Bullshit." The harshness of that word delivered in the whisper glow of midnight does its job. Maashous stiffens under the delivery. Gordy's can, now empty, and Maashous realizes blearily he didn't even see him open it.

"G-." But before Maashous can even try to explain himself, Gordy tosses the empty can in the sink and leaves the room.

* * *

Mr. Mazzu comes to him with the idea at 5 in the morning. Maashous is not even sure he hears correctly.

"You want to _demolish_ the set?"

"There's a better way to do this. We wanted to represent Stanton right?" Mr. Mazzu looks like an overgrown puppy, overcome with energy. It would almost be frightening, is a bit close to crossing that threshold on four hour sleep.

Maashous bobs his head. "Yeah, but…" _But how is having no set at all representing anything?_

Mr. Mazzu explains his idea and Maashous feels a grin spreading across his face. _Oh, that is good._

"This way, budget is not such a concern and we can get everyone's point of view."

"You've got my vote Mr. Mazzu."

"Glad to hear it. Think Ms. Wolfe will be on board?"

Maashous shrugs. "I'm not sure…?" But it's a question not an answer. Maashous' mind is drifting elsewhere, the sound of that soda can hitting the edge of the sink.

"What's going on?" Mr. Mazzu's smile drops slightly, and Maashous sighs internally. He must not be as good at concealing things as he thought.

"I think, maybe you should talk to Gordy. He seems like he might be having kind of a rough time."

Mr. Mazzu gives the smallest of frowns. Maashous wonders had he overstepped? He overstepped, clearly, what kind of question was that? He wasn't Gordy's brother. It wasn't his job to notice something like that.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to. Thanks for the reminder." Mr. Mazzu looks troubled, but he gives Maashous a smile probably meant to reassure. Maashous isn't sure it entirely serves that purpose, but he smiles back. He doesn't need to tell Mazzu his concerns. This is a family concern that supersedes his as a guest in their lives. Right now, he needs to focus on maybe not falling asleep in his classes.

* * *

When they roll the set onto the stage, Maashous is oddly content, excited even. Maybe this would be step one in ensuring the show got off the ground. He takes the first swing, sees Mr. Mazzu do the same and he hears the collective gasp.

"What are you doing?"

"Mr. Mazzu!"

"Wha...what?"

 _I want you to bring me Stanton._

He hears those words ringing in his head as he leaves and knows already what he is going to bring. There is an old railroad sign near the tracks by the house where he used to live so so long ago. He doesn't remember the house, so much as those tracks, and the white railroad crossing sign that acted as a boundary. He thinks that he can uproot that sign pretty easily, and oddly he does manage to do so. It's poetic, he muses, how easily it comes out of the ground and looks at home among their collage, how easily it fits into their troupe, despite how disparate everything seems: Gwen and Gordy's steel mill sign, Lilette and Robbie's juke box, Simon and Annabelle's stained glass from the church, everyone's contributions coming together and fitting into one representation of this show that's already done so much for them. He takes it as a good sign. Maybe things will work out in some patchwork way.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ ** _Tell me what you thought. I'd love to know._**

 ** _Next up, in my first tag to the latest episode, I will be playing with all of the insight we received in episode 7 and possibly even incorporating a prompt as even through that, Maashous will be trying his best to help his fellow troupe members during a hellish tech week._**


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: Okay, so this chapter had to be split by necessity. It's the longest yet, but with so much to work with in "This Will, God Willing, Get Better", it kind of grew out of my control. Not that that is a bad thing. The dialogue, most of the recognizable dialogue is either paraphrased from the episode or directly quoted. It doesn't belong to me. Rise belongs to NBC. The dialogue from Spring Awakening is taken from my copy of the script which I have on my ereader. It belongs to Steven Sater and the rest of the creative team behind Spring Awakening, not me. The prompt which will be addressed belongs to Meep over on Ao3 and is: "Maybe he should notice the tension between Simon and Jeremy." Anyway, I hope you enjoy part 1.**_

* * *

Love is Not a Lie Part 1

Maashous wakes up with a feeling of strange anticipation. There is a sense of tingling from his head to his hands down to his feet, he feels a weight in his stomach. He isn't sure why in the bright morning beginnings of consciousness. It's just another day...isn't it? No, he realizes. It's _tech week_. But it should be fine right? Well...he can't speak for the show, but he feels fine, despite the impending series of small doomsday moments that will befall Stanton High's auditorium without fail during these rehearsals.

He has a routine now. He gets an outfit together, shirt, pants, socks, shoes. He goes to pull his sneakers on and then smells them. _Ohh that's ripe._ He learned how to do laundry, mostly from necessity. Being bounced as much as he has pretty much forced him to become self-sufficient from the age of nine. It isn't a huge deal. He can usually handle a load or two without much trouble, but his old sneakers have other ideas.

The rattling of the dryer is the first thing that alerts him to the dilemma. Is it supposed to make that noise? He is sure that doesn't sound good. He opens the front load door, and sees the laces wedged , and the fact that his shoes hanged themselves is not something he finds the least bit amusing. He pulls, but they don't budge.

 _Great._

He gets the phone call from his foster mom, a meeting with social services at five o'clock today. She asks the right questions. "Yeah, I'm good. You've been calling every day. Yeah, I'll be there. Okay, bye."

He hangs up, shoving the meeting to the back of his mind, and turning his attention back to the shoes and wrestling them out of their spot.

* * *

He arrives at rehearsal and Mr. Mazzu suggests. "Let's do a full run through."

This is met with the usual resistance cranked up to one hundred. Maashous stares without a word. He is pretty sure his mouth is slightly open. Everyone is speaking enough for him.

"We usually go section by section." Ms. Wolfe says.

"We can do it. Top to bottom, the whole show."

Maashous winces. _The whole show? Uh…_

It goes about as well as everyone other than Mr. Mazzuchelli seems to think it will. The only scene that works, gives any semblance of working without destruction, is Simon and Jeremy's

" _Trust me, there are only three ways a man can go. He can let the status quo defeat him-like Moritz. He can rock the boat-like Melchior-and be expelled. Or he can bide his time, and let the system work for_ him _-like me."_ Simon delivers his line with something between playfulness and seriousness. He moves a brief inch, and Maashous sees Jeremy's breath hitch. Maashous has seen acting before, this is crossing some kind of line. Something just tells him so. Their chemistry is off the charts. " _Think of the future as a pail of whole milk. One man sweats and stirs-churning it into butter-like Otto, for example. Another man frets, and spills his milk, and cries all night. Like Georg. But me,"_ Here Simon gives the smallest of shrugs, and a half smirk as his and Jeremy's shoulders are touching. " _Well, I'm like a pussycat, I just skim off the cream…"_

Jeremy in his appraisal looks as wonder-struck as...and Maashous puts this together in a manner of seconds, as he always has when he's with Simon. " _Just skim off the cream?"_

Maashous continues watching the scene, alternating his gaze between the stage and Mr. Mazzu, who is clearly more impressed than he's been all day. He hasn't interrupted them once.

" _When we look back, thirty years from now, tonight will seem unbelievably beautiful."_ Simon reaches for Jeremy's hand.

" _And in the meantime?"_

Simon leans down and kisses Jeremy's hand, feather soft. " _Why not?"_

* * *

After the meeting with social services, Maashous feels the sense of doom, even greater than before. There's a turning in his stomach that hasn't stopped.

 _She has a place, and a room for you._

 _Will I still be able to go to Stanton?_

 _You'll have to transfer to Roosevelt. It's a great school… We'll start with a meeting, just you and her, see how it goes._

He tries to shove it backwards, but it keeps coming the the fore. He doesn't know his mom, hasn't known her since he was a kid. He isn't sure how one meeting, or even a few after six years could ever possibly translate to "she has a room for you." There is a part of him that's anticipatory, a bit excited, but mostly he feels mixed up.

He hasn't had someplace he could consider a real home in so long. Staying with the Mazzzuchellis, well it's the first time he's felt safe since those distant times he barely remembers. But she's his mother. He should be excited.

* * *

Maashous hears Mrs. Mazzuchelli on the phone with the repairman.

 _$400?_

He listens, but when she turns her attention to Kaitlin… ( _Did you overstuff the dryer?)_ he can't just listen anymore. He leaves the room, determined that he will do something.

That night, he grabs some tools and goes down to the basement. If he can fix this for them, well that's good right? Kind of like returning the huge favor...even though he was the one that messed it up. Besides, he needs something to get his mind off of things.

"Maashous!" Mrs. Mazzuchelli is on the steps. She looks concerned. "I thought you were a burglar."

He shakes his head. " I'm sorry...I'm trying to fix it."

"In the middle of the night, why?"

"It was me. I broke the dryer. I...I tried to dry my sneaker and the lace got caught.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I…" Maashous tries to catch his breath. "I don't know I'm sorry."

"Okay." Ms. Mazzuchelli nods. "Okay, just don't do anything to it. Just leave it. We'll deal with it in the morning." She turns and goes to head upstairs. " And Maashous, in this house, we don't lie to each other." The words are tinged with frustration, exhaustion, stress. But all Maashous is thinking about is that he won't have anywhere to go. He screwed up. And he's lost his only real shot. Even if...no not if, when when he goes back with his mother, he won't have an opportunity like this one again, that he's throwing away, not at Roosevelt.

He is tired too. He's taken aback by the tone. He's trembling with the realization of what he did, what it means. He's frightened. The words are out of his mouth before he knows. "Sorry, I didn't see the no lying sign on the door."

Mrs. Mazzuchelli's face is unreadable. "Let's both try to get some sleep." He's not sure what to expect, but he knows what he has to do next.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So next up, the tag to this episode continues and goes a bit AU as Maashous notices that scene that works without destruction? Not quite working anymore, and tries to help, but with the way his luck has been going will he? And Maashous talks to both Mr. and Mrs. Mazzuchelli about the dryer situation. Do you have any suggestions for prompts? Let me know!**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: Hey, here with part 2 of episode 7. I don't own Rise. Belongs to NBC. If I did, well we would've gotten a season 2. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I have some news in the bottom author's note._**

* * *

Love is Not a Lie Part 2

At the next rehearsal, the scene that was working, well…

"They're not even holding hands." Michael whispers.

"What the hell happened?" Maashous saw Mr. Mazzu whispering to Ms. Wolfe. "We had one scene that was working…"

It was true. They had. Maashous saw what happened, or what was happening. The performance had gone from excellent to a bare bones reading without the scripts within a span of 24 hours.

"Alright, alright, get things together for _Blue Wind/Don't Do Sadness_." Mrs. Wolfe says.

Michael leaves to prepare, and Maashous prepares the lights, but he can't take his eyes off of the tension between Jeremy and Simon. Something had happened.

"Take five guys." Mr. Mazzu said after they ran the number.

As Mr. Mazzu gives notes to Michael and Gwen, Maashous steps down from his post and heads to the auditorium seats where Jeremy was seated in the second row. Simon was in the corner talking to Lilette.

"Hey," Maashous takes a seat next to Jeremy. They weren't exactly friends, but they weren't exactly not. They'd talked before just not as much as Maashous had with Michael. They had algebra together.

The other boy blinks. "Oh hey, um...what's up?"

"I could be asking you," Maashous raises his eyebrows. "You're making Mr. Mazzu blow his top."

"Well," Jeremy sighs. "I am the newest one next to Robbie, Michael and Lilette. I'm not used to the whole acting thing."

"You seemed pretty used to it yesterday." Maashous says. "What happened?"

"Um...I'm not sure I should…"

"Dude," Maashous sighs. "I'm the lighting guy, not Jolene. And _no one_ gossips with the lighting guy."

"You're saying you can keep a secret?"

Maashous throws Jeremy an _obviously_ look. This whole theatre was full of secrets. Maashous could fill a book with the stuff he found out. Tech folks were invisible in a room full of people yearning for a spotlight.

"Alright then," The teenager took a breath. "I...sort of asked Simon not to touch me during our scene."

Maashous pulled a face. He tries to cover it up, but it's already out in the open.

"What's that?" Jeremy frowns.

"N...nothing, it just well it's a _love_ scene."

The two boys sit in silence for a while, Maashous waiting to hear Jeremy's reply.

"That's the problem…" Maashous strains to hear Jeremy's response.

"You and Simon are great scene partners." He replies. "You're probably the best we've got to be honest. Robbie could use some serious coaching actually you should coach him.." He frowns slightly as the joke falls flat. "Is this because…"

"Simon _slept_ with Annabelle. After…" Jeremy trails off shaking his head hard. Maashous can hear the bitterness in the other teen's voice.

Maashous didn't know Simon that well, but he knew, they all knew about Simon almost being pulled from Stanton permanently because of his role as Hanschen. The whole troupe could see the tension between their Hanschen and Ernst. "I'm not sure exactly what happened." Maashous says. "But Simon's going through a lot." He knew that to be true, even if he didn't exactly know all of the relationship drama. "Just...maybe just try being there as best you can. Talk to him then maybe you can at least do the scene if not necessarily…" He made a vague motion with his hands. "All I can say man, is you guys better work it out and fast because Mazzu doesn't seem like he has much more patience." He glances over to where Mazzu and Robbie were exchanging some heated words.

"Maashous, we need to set the lights!"

Jeremy winces. "Yeah….I see what you mean. Thanks." Jeremy holds out a hand

Maashous nods. "Sure." He shakes Jeremy's hand running it through his hair before running back to his seat to work the lights.

* * *

After school, Maashous is packing a backpack. He'd made his decision after yesterday, and he'd talked to Michael about crashing at his place. It would be better than imposing on the Mazzuchellis any longer than necessary. He studied the playbill that Mazzu had given him: True West before going to place it in the bag. He hears a knock, and startles.

"Maashous, what are you doing?" Mrs. Mazzuchelli stood in front of him glancing down at him curiously.

"Um...Mr. Mazzu gave it to me. Said I reminded him of the play." He holds up the playbill assuming, no pretending that that's what he thinks Mrs. Mazzuchelli is referring to. "My friend Michael said I could crash at his place until…" Maashous realizes what he's about to say, closes his mouth shut with a snap.

"Until what?"

"Nothing." A quick shake of the head. "I'm sorry about the dryer."

"Maashous, you're not leaving….because of the stupid dryer are you?" Mrs. Mazzuchelli asks. The disbelief in her tone, Maashous can't understand why it's hard to believe. He just continues packing more intently. There is silence for a long while… and then. "I...I'm sorry if I got angry."

"You said in this house we don't lie to each other." Maashous says not making eye contact.

"That doesn't mean I'm throwing you out of the house."

"I've been kicked out for a lot less." Maashous deadpans.

"Maashous," Mrs. Mazzuchelli is troubled by this fact. Maashous can tell by the way she stares at him. And then she is sitting next to him on the small bed. "Listen to me, that is not what I meant. You could break a thousand dryers and I might get angry, but we're still gonna wake up in the morning and have breakfast together. And I'm not gonna stop caring about you because of that okay? Or anything else. You're a part of this family Maashous."

 _A part of this family. A part of this family._ Those words ring in his head, stun him even as Mrs. Mazzuchelli pulls him in for a hug. She tells him to unpack, put his stuff away. He's not leaving. And all Maashous can do is nod. His reply is soft. He hears himself reply the affirmative, but he can't move. Mrs. Mazzuchelli leaves the room smiling gently. He glances down to his bag then back at the door Mrs. Mazzuchelli just left out of, and finally, finally he moves. He unpacks as if in a dream. He lays back on the bed, shuts his eyes almost believing that when he opens them...when he opens them, he's still in the small room. The conversation still feels real. And just for a while, he lets himself be lulled in the security of that fact. _A part of this family._ He is a part of the Mazzuchellis lives and for however long that lasts, well, he'll take it.

* * *

Mr. Mazzu finds him a while later, still half-stunned.

"Hey, Gail told me I might find you here."

"Um...yeah…" Maashous didn't speak for a while. His hand absently began running over the tip of his shoelace. "Is there something...about the lighting cues or…?" He reaches backwards and begins rummaging for his notes.

The older man stopped short of saying something by the abruptness of the teen's inquiry, wears a puzzled expression. "No, no." He shook his head. "Maashous, no this isn't about the show." He puts a hand on the boy's arm.

"Then…?" He raises his eyebrows a fraction of an inch.

"Did you really think Gail would make you leave because of the dryer?"

Maashous shrugs.

"That would never happen. Let's get that clear." Mr. Mazzu claps a hand on Maashous' shoulder. "Okay?"

Maashous nods.

"Good. Don't forget that."

"I won't Mr. Mazzu."

"Alright, so now let's take a look at the lights."

Maashous can't help but smile as he grabs his notebook. Seamless transition as always. But he guesses that's how things will work now, and he can't say he objects.

* * *

 _ **A/N: So, news, I mentioned news right? Well... Hell Week will be getting a full length sequel...well sort of a sequel! I decided to take on the task of writing a version of a possible season 2, so there's that to look forward to. It will be called Hell's Frozen Over (But the Ice is Thin) I will post a brief sneaky peek at the end of this story. But before that happens, this story will be wrapping up with the remaining episodes in mind. Next up, the Petition, and Maashous dealing with the trip to Eagleton to see his mother.**_


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